


Down the Road

by kitana



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Gen, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-25 03:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitana/pseuds/kitana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they travel, Iroh spends much of his time just watching Zuko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the Road

**Author's Note:**

> If a timeline is needed, throw this in somewhere in between the end of Book 1 and the beginning of Book 2.  
> For my kink bingo square, “washing/cleaning”.

As they travel, Iroh spends much of his time just watching Zuko. Over the years, he's gotten good at seeing without looking and listening without hearing. He makes sure Zuko is not aware of when he's watching, because it's always when Zuko is most vulnerable. If Zuko knew, he would never let his guard down and that's something that Iroh doesn't want for him. If anything, Iroh thinks vulnerability will humble Zuko. It's good in small doses.

Mainly Iroh watches in the early mornings, when Zuko takes his baths. Usually, Zuko is nauseatingly perfunctory about it, never allowing himself even the luxury of actually feeling the cool crispness of the water he bathes in. Iroh couldn't imagine being so cruel to himself. Yet there are still times, though rare now, that Zuko wakes up more world-weary that normal and unloads that weariness into the river.

One those days, Zuko doesn't cry into the river, or practice his fire breath against it to blow off steam; he merely sits at the water's edge, nude. This is one of those days. Iroh watches, patient, as Zuko unwraps the sliver of soap left over from a town they traveled through a week ago. The smell of it is leaps and bounds away from any scent Zuko previously wore; it's earthy and flowery, and Iroh's been waiting for Zuko to complain about it. But he hasn't.

Zuko starts with his feet and legs, drawing them out of the water to lather the soap against his skin. If anyone were to attack now, right this minute, Zuko would be at a heavy disadvantage. Iroh reminds himself of this, to remember exactly why it is he watches.

Iroh can see the muscles in Zuko's back shifting as he rinses each leg, soaps his thighs, then wades deeper into the water to rinse them too. Now waist deep in chilly river water, Zuko takes the soap to his stomach, then up and down his arms. The white foaminess of it spirals down his arms when he lowers them, then stills and drips as he drags the lather across his throat with the pads of his fingertips.

Zuko turns in Iroh's direction then, though Iroh doesn't move. Zuko hasn't spotted him, he knows, and with as well as Iroh's hidden, he doesn't think Zuko _could_ spot him without actively searching. Still, he crouches lower.

Zuko takes extra care around the scar on his face, gently smoothing the soap over his forehead, down his nose, and around his eyes and lips. He sinks completely beneath the surface of the water and, for a long tense moment, Iroh's not completely sure that Zuko hasn't let himself be carried away by the current.

To Iroh's relief, Zuko pops back up – unharmed, clean. River droplets glisten on Zuko's skin in the coming dawn; Iroh sighs. Zuko is beautiful in countless ways, but he seems oblivious to each and every one of them. Zuko turns to the rising sun, showing to Iroh his unmarred side. Then, as he looks to the sky, he pulls the sopping holder from his hair and lets his ponytail fall free.

As Zuko finger combs through his damp hair, working out kinks from the day before, his eyes slide again towards where Iroh is concealed within the bushes. Through the foliage, Iroh feels Zuko's gaze meeting his. He expects Zuko to say or do something, anything, really, but Zuko only puts his hair up again and pulls it tight.

Iroh is back to camp before Zuko finishes dressing. When Zuko reaches him, mere moments later, there is little unusual about his expression. Still, Iroh is surprised that Zuko bows before him and says, plainly, “Thank you, Uncle.”

Amidst pouring himself a cup of tea, Iroh raises his eyebrow. “For what, Prince Zuko?”

“Protecting me,” Zuko replies, then, “We should get moving.”

Iroh isn't left with anything else to say.


End file.
